What Are We Doing In Love?
by flashpenguin
Summary: From the moment they laid eyes on one another, there has been a certain attraction between Lionel Fusco and Root. Now, via The Machine, the pair find themselves alone in a penthouse with nothing but time on their hands. As they wrestle with emotions and feelings, will they follow through and cross the line? Bridge chapter between stories #198 & #200. *COMPLETE!*


_I know that I am going to lose a lot of readers by posting this story, and I'm okay with that. A writer is supposed to write what they feel; to do otherwise would be a lie to everything I've done since November 1984, when I picked up a pen and wrote my first story. Besides, these_ _characters have been haunting me for nearly a year, and they need to have their say! I hope you enjoy it. If you don't, I understand. It is, however, the bridge story between "I'd Come For You" and "No Easy Way Out". Thank you. (Maybe now they'll let me sleep!)_

 _Song prompt: **What Are We Doing In Love? By Dottie West and Kenny Rogers.**_

* * *

 **What Are We Doing In Love?**

 _I shouldn't be here,_ he thought to himself. God knew that between his ex, work, his mutual friends, and life in general, he had enough crazy without adding to it. But that would be the common sense part of him talking – a part he was sure had been left behind from the moment he had set eyes on her. He wondered if it was too late to find it.

Now he stood in the middle of a penthouse bedroom locking lips with the absolute last person on earth he ever imagined kissing – much less being alone with – and wondered what path got him here. But as they tangled tongues, he didn't want to think about what his hands were doing. All he wanted to do was get lost in the moment.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he murmured against her mouth. Her lips were softer than he could have ever imagined. "We shouldn't be here." He nuzzled her neck and breathed in her sweet perfume. He felt his blood run hot.

"Where would you rather be? In your cramped apartment, eating pizza and watching TV?" Root asked. She pushed Lionel's sports coat over his shoulders and tossed it to the floor.

"Good point." He fumbled with the buttons on her dress. Cursing under his breath, he pulled back and tried to concentrate on the task. "Sorry, I'm all thumbs," he apologized for his clumsiness.

"Been a while, has it?" she replied without subtly. But she was patient and could wait. After all, she waited this long for him.

Lionel pulled back, almost insulted by the remark. "Hell no! I've gotten some," he bristled at the implication.

"Really? When?" she challenged, her fingers dancing over the buttons on Lionel's dress shirt. Her smile warned him that she knew him better than he knew himself. She just wondered if he realized it.

Lionel shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Okay, it's been a while," he admitted reluctantly, "but I've gotten laid. A lot." After all, he consoled himself, he was The Fusco.

"Nine years, four months, twenty-two days..." Root stated confidently.

Lionel's cheeks flushed hot. "How the hell did you know that?!" he interrupted and gave her a wary look. If there was ever a time to run, now would be it. Instead, he stood stock still and waited for her reply.

Root smiled. "I didn't; she did. She knows everything."

Lionel blinked. "She? She, who? You got someone spying on me?" He looked around the room.

Root gave a coy little smile as she unfastened his tie. "I call it 'she', but her correct name is 'God'.

"That's comforting. And disturbing," he added quickly. "And she...tells you everything?"

"Just the things that I need to know," Root replied vaguely.

"Like the deep, dark skinny on me."

"She thinks you and I would make a great team."

Lionel scoffed, but he didn't pull away. "She does, does she? She does know that you're loonier than a whole box of cracker jacks, right?" he stated.

"Does it matter?"

From the moment they had met, there was something about her that had him intrigued. He couldn't put his finger on what exactly attracted him to her, but now that he was standing in an expensively decorated penthouse with her slowly seducing him, he realized that maybe it didn't matter.

"Not really. Although, I thought you had a thing for Glasses."

"You mean Harry?"

Lionel's look was of total surprise. "Harry?! That's a new one."

"We're just...co-workers," she explained. "Although Sameen and I had a fling."

"Shaw?"

"She's okay with us getting together. I suppose it helps that she likes you."

Lionel whistled. "This is getting weirder by the moment."

"You like weird." Root pulled the tie loose and threw it to the ground. "Now to get down to business..."

"Your seduction of me," he replied rhetorically.

Root unfastened the buttons on Lionel's shirt so she could toss it to join the coat on the floor. "Hmm..." she answered in a noncommittal tone. "I like that term." She eyed him from head to toe.

His cheeks burned hot. "I know I should lay off the fast food..."

"No. I like what I see."

"Back in the day, you should have seen me," he boasted and tried to suck in his gut with little success.

Root gave a tug on the waistband of Lionel's slacks. Quickly she undid his belt. Pulling it free of the loops, she tossed it on the nearby chair.

"What did you do that for?" he asked.

"Keeping it close by. Never know when we might need it." She licked her lips.

"Never thought I'd say this, but you are my kind of girl." The thought was scary and appealing at the same time, but he liked it.

"Lionel, do you always talk this much before you go to bed with someone?" she asked with a lilt in her voice.

"I'm nervous; so sue me."

Root unfastened the button and pulled the fly down. She raised her eyebrow. "Boxers?"

"They're comfortable and they allow me to breathe."

"They're you. But not for long." She hooked her fingers in the waistband and pulled down. At the last second Lionel grabbed her hands.

"Not so fast, sweetheart. "

"What's wrong, Lionel?" Root teased. "Is this too much for you? I thought it was your fantasy to have a woman take advantage of you?"

"I'm not going to ask how you know that."

Root's look was of pure innocence. "Lucky guess?"

"Sure. Lucky for you that I like aggressive women," Lionel quipped tongue in cheek.

"Me too."

Lionel looked at her in wide-eyed disbelief. "Serious?"

"We all have our secrets." She stuck her finger in her mouth, wet it, then traced an invisible circle around Lionel's nipple. "You managed to find out one of mine. What's yours?" she challenged.

"I fail at every diet I try," he replied dryly. "And I hog the remote."

Root considered his response. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but I'm sure that with time I'll find out everything I need to know about you."

"You're not going to go to the 'Super God of Computers'?"

Root turned around. "Will you get the zipper for me?" She waited for Lionel to tug the zipper open. "Thanks." She shrugged out of her skin tight dress. "Ah. That's better."

Lionel stood with his mouth open as he drank in her slender physique. His eyes roamed over her flat stomach – stopping to drink in the perfectly round breasts in the barely there lace push-up bra. He wasn't sure if the triangle piece of silk strategically placed at the V of her thighs could even be called underwear, but he really didn't care.

"What?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

"You're gorgeous," he breathed.

"Well, yeah, I am," she said without a trace of modesty. Without warning, she put her hands on Lionel's shoulders and quick a push.

"Hey!" he yelped as he fell backwards. His hands tried to grab something to hold on to, but came up empty. Half a second later the soft, expensive mattress broke his fall. Blinking, he looked up at Root.

"What was that for?" he demanded and pushed himself back so he lay fully upon the mattress.

"Oh, Lionel," she sighed and rolled her eyes. "You talk too much."

"Never seemed to bother any of the ladies before," he returned indignantly. "They liked a little small talk."

"Yeah, well," she took a step forward, "I'm not one for small talk; I think it wastes too much time."

Lionel grinned broadly. "Sweetheart, we got nothin' but time," he boasted.

Root straddled him. "The night is still young," she mused. "Anything can happen." She leaned over so her face was mere inches from his. Her eyes smoldered with desire as her hand reached for the lamp. "Lights on, or lights off?"

Lionel swallowed and licked his lips. "First, my question: What's your first name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I like to know who I'm going to bed with."

"Samantha."

"Samantha." Lionel nodded. "On."

"I knew I liked you," she said and kissed him silent.  
******

The room was silent but for the heavy breathing coming from the pair lying side by side on the bed.

"You know, those things are going to kill you," Root said and cast a sideways glance at Lionel.

Lionel took a long drag on the cigarette. "I know."

"I didn't know you smoked."

"You mean your 'god' didn't tell you that?" Lionel replied with just a tad of sarcasm in his voice.

"Sometimes she misses the little things."

Lionel flicked the ash into the crystal ashtray on the nightstand. "Don't worry, I only smoke after I've had great sex."

Root snuggled up. "And when was that?"

"Thirteen years." He took another drag and relished in the nicotine as it filled his lungs. "You caused a bad habit to return," he chastised her.

"Heh. I don't know if I should take that as a compliment."

"It's a compliment. Definitely."

Root sat up. "Well, in that case..." She took the cigarette and inhaled.

"You know, that thing is going to kill you," Lionel said. Root blew the smoke back at him. Using his hand, he cleared the air.

"If you can have a victory drag, so can I," she purred. Her foot stroked his leg suggestively. "What are you thinking?"

"Where do we go from here?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Us? This? Is this a one-night stand?"

Root lifted a shoulder, then let it drop. "And if it is?"

"That would suck."

Root took a deep drag, held it, then let it out slowly. "What do you want, Lionel?"

"I don't know. Something, I guess."

Root raised her eyebrow. "Something? Like...marriage and kids?" Though seriously frightened her, but it awoken something dormant inside.

Lionel made a face and took the cigarette. "Hell no. Been there, done that. You?"

"I'm cool with what we have."

Lionel stubbed out the cigarette. "Although, I'm not sure if this is going to work."

"What do you mean?"

"We're like day and night. Oil and water. Winter and summer," he listed off their differences.

"Speed bumps."

"You like shooting people," he pointed out.

"You like arresting them."

"I try to follow the law."

"I try to follow my law," she said.

"I'm about getting the bad guy."

"So am I." Root shifted her body so she could straddle him. "What are you saying, Lionel?"

"You're loopier than a box of fruit loops."

"You love fruit loops."

He sucked in his breath as she rubbed up against him. "We go back to work on Monday," he changed the subject. He needed to clear his head and think about anything other than what she was doing to him.

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"Can you promise to keep your hands to yourself?"

Root rolled her eyes, considering his request. "I will refrain myself. But you are a little hard to resist."

Lionel puffed out his chest. "That, I am."

"But you know the FBI has jurisdiction over local LEO's; I might have to drag you in for a personal conference or two," she warned.

"Wouldn't be my first time, doll."

"In the broom closet?"

"You're a sick puppy," he pointed out. He could get used to the weird thrill that coursed thru him whenever she suggested something out of the norm.

"Yes." She wasn't ashamed to admit that he was bringing out the devil in her.

"The team is never going to believe this."

"What?"

"Us as a couple."

"My lips are sealed," she vowed and drew her finger across her lips for empahsis.

"So are mine."

"We have until Monday morning," she said. "I think we should put that time to good use."

"Darling, I've only gotten started."

"Oh, really?"

Maneuvering carefully, he flipped her on her back. "You forgot that you're dealing with 'The Fusco'."

"Time to put your money where your mouth is."

Reaching over, Lionel turned off the lights.

"I thought you liked the lights on?" Root protested.

"I do my best work in the dark," he murmured against her skin.

"Show me what you've got, Detective."

"With pleasure."

The End


End file.
